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Short Story / The Diary of Anna Brooks, An entry, 03/17/92.
“I glanced at my watch, it was just past nine in the morning. I quietly took a long sip from the teacup which I held within my hand, though it was filled not with tea, instead it was filled with steaming, black heaven; it was filled with coffee. Warm, soothing rays of sunlight gently caressed by back as I stared, deeply in thought, at a beautiful arrangement of simple yellow flowers just before me. They were from a rather cute looking guy from work, in an attempt to woo my heart; it worked, we are supposed to have a date come Tuesday.
My eyes slowly sank from the flowers, down the smooth, genital curves of their vase to settle upon the canary yellow tablecloth which was gently draped over a small, round dining table. It was rather small, only big enough for three people to dine comfortably, four if you really packed yourself in, though it was only adorned with two rather old, but not to elegant red-backed chairs.
I took another long sip from my cup, and took a long, slow breath, desperately trying to calm my nerves. I was nervous, extremely nervous. Exactly a month ago I got a very nice job at very large company as an Administrative Clerk. I did mostly filing and typing work, made and accepted the occasional phone call, and other such work in the main office.
They had hired 4 people, but there was only two permanent positions available. They had hired four, and set up an evaluation period, at the end of which two would be chosen to remain, the other two would be let go. However, there were only three now, one of them having been fired just a week ago when she was caught stealing. Early this morning a meeting was to be held to determine who would remain. Which was why I was nervous.
However, I shouldn’t have been. The other two woman were, quite frankly, tramps. I don’t say that out of hate, jealousy, or spite as that was simply what they were. They strut around the office, in their mini-skirts and their low cut shirts, cut so low that it nearly showed their navel. It seems like every time one of our male bosses came around that they always seemed to ‘drop’ something and had to bend over to pick it up in such a way that it left nothing to his imagination.
Despite this, despite all the drooling and all the burning lust, I still shouldn’t have had much to worry about, as I was not like that. I always dressed as nicely as possible, not my Sunday best, but still very nice and conservatively and acted in a respectable manner. Not only that, but they too where horrible at their job, doing very little and doing a bad job at what they did do. This was something our managers knew well, as I usually ended up doing most of their work along with mine, and going back and correcting what they did wrong. That is why I shouldn’t have worried, because I was the only one out of the lot that knew how to do the work properly and the only one whom did it, and despite the drooling and lust they would have had to choose the most qualified person, the person whom would do the most work, however they were guys.
I glanced at my watch again, nearly half an hour had passed, it was only an hour until I had to leave for work, and I was getting more anxious my the moment as they had yet to call with news of my fate. In one long sip I finally down the very last of the black heavenly liquid within my cup and set it upon the table in front of me. I twisted it round slowly, staring rather blankly at it’s smooth white curves, trying to take my mind off of my review, though it was not working.
Then, suddenly I was made to jump in fright as a sudden shrill wailing cry sliced though the silence, causing my heart to jump, thumping against the top of my head in alarm. I lept from my seat and practically bounded for the wailing bringer of news, pausing just before to to compose and steady it myself; I didn’t want to sound to excited. Taking a deep breath I reached out and held the bringer of salvation or damnation to my ear.
“Hello?” I tried not to sound to excited, or desperate.
“Is this Miss Brooks?”
“Yes ma’am, this is Miss Brooks.”
“Ah yes, this is Mrs Joyce from the main office. I have news regarding your evaluation…” she paused.
“Yes!?” I sounded a bit more excited than I might have liked.
“Yes, well, um, I’m am sorry but…we are going to have to let you go…”
“…oh…” my heart sank to the floor, disbelief and shock hitting me like a locomotive at full steam. “Thank you Mrs Joyce…Bye.”
“Goodbye Miss Brooks.”
I slowly, sluggishly replaced the bringer of damnation upon its pedestal. I drearily made my way back over to the chair upon which I had been sitting just a few minutes before, every step seemed like I was trudging though quicksand. I plopped down in my seat, I could feel tears starting to creep into the back of my eyes; I fought them, but they were to strong. I buried by head in my arms upon the table, the floodgates blasting open and tears flowing down my face like a waterfall. I couldn’t believe that they choose them over me, those useless things over me. I couldn’t believe that it, they picked them, they picked…those…those…tramps!”
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Owl_Light reviewed Version 1 -
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the pace at the start is painfully slow. you linger in one place as though you are so desperate for ideas that you are making a meal out of each tiny event.
The first paragraph was not a paragraph which made me want to read on. But credits motivate.
I liked the connection you made between the prospective date and the ‘genital curves’ of the everyday object. You think of cock and everything looks like one. Good! Especially because your character is so prim and proper in her dress.
There must be a more dynamic way to open this piece. Reading about a cuppa coffee is so boring. of course your character is trivial. She is like an old spinster with her yellow tablecloth and dressing as nicely as possible.
You convey successfuly that the narrator feels so superior, then she is brought down with a bump.
How are the mighty fallen
I liked the story as a whole, but why not start with more of the narrator’s naughty thoughts. Which she doesn’t recognise as naughty; but thinks all the same. This is to engage the reader from the start. The piece entertained me, but I very very would not have read on because of the awful first sentences.
Your first sentence should be the one about the genital curves on the vase!
typo:to excited should be too
The flaw in your story is that a firm never ‘phones to tell you bad news like this. They will do it by post, becaue of the reaction of the person and it’s not fair on the person who has to tell them. The receiver of the bad news could become ill as a result of the way the news is broken to them. Then they could sue the company who have a duty of care not to upset people in this way.
Your writing style is easy to follow.But try to put yourself in the shoes of your readers!
Well done
Write on!
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Lisa_M reviewed Version 1 -
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I really enjoyed the part when he they cut him loose, that was very emotion pacted and also funny. you have added humor to an otherwise tragic point in his young life. i’m not sure you meant to but you did. you are also very good with dialog. i know it’s notthe review we all hope for but it’s honest and it is what I think
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